


We Were Glowing Like the Metal on the Edge of Knife

by veleda_k



Category: Loveless
Genre: F/F, Marking, Not Dark, Scarification
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 17:24:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5013463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veleda_k/pseuds/veleda_k
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's better, being Yamato and Kouya instead of Zero. But Yamato wants some extra assurance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Were Glowing Like the Metal on the Edge of Knife

**Author's Note:**

  * For [uumuu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/uumuu/gifts).



Yamato never would have thought that it would take so much work just to be herself. But learning to be just Yamato, rather than Zero, doesn't happen overnight. 

Yamato can do it, though, because she has Kouya. In truth, she will never have to be _just_ Yamto. She will always be one half of Yamato and Kouya. They are more than the sum of their parts. More than Zero.

Their apartment is about the size of the closet in Yamato's old place, the one Nagisa paid for. But this apartment belongs to them, so it's better than a palace.

It's strange, living like this, but it's a good strange, mostly. Mostly.

Yamato is one half of Yamato and Kouya. They don't need the Fighter and Sacrifice system to belong to each other. Their bond is stronger than that. But when Yamato isn't thinking about it, she still finds her fingers trailing over the place where her name used to be.

It wasn't even a good name. Zero is nothing. Was that how Nagisa had thought of them? How she had thought of Yamato, certainly. That had never really bothered Yamato. How could anyone not love Kouya more? But now Yamato thinks of the fear on Kouya's face when Nagisa threatened to take Yamato away, and Yamato thinks that anyone who could scare Kouya like that couldn't really love her. And Yamato is the expert on loving Kouya.

And now they're free. Free from Nagisa, and the battles, and being Zero. Yamato is not nothing. Kouya is everything.

Yamato knows she shouldn't miss being Zero. She doesn't miss being nothing. But she misses the name. Because as long as Zero was Kouya's name too, then it could never really be nothing.

Yamato fiddles with her phone and tries not to look at the time. Kouya isn't really late, but it feels like she is. Patience has never been Yamato's strong suit. And she doesn't like to be alone with her own thoughts too much these days.

Yamato perks up when she hears Kouya's key in the lock, followed by Kouya's soft, “I'm home.”

“Welcome back!” Any melancholy flows off Yamato. “Oh, you got groceries. Thanks.”

“If shopping were up to you, we'd eat nothing but cup noodles and Pocky.” Kouya does the thing with her mouth that isn't a smile, but serves the same purpose.

“Chocolate and salt,” Yamato says. “The two basic food groups.”

Kouya rolls her eyes at that, but it's affectionate. “I thought I'd make soba noodles.”

“Sounds good.” Kouya isn't a very good cook, actually, but she's better than Yamato, so it works out.

The tiny apartment that felt so empty before is filled with Kouya's presence, and Yamato is happy. She's happy. So, she doesn't know why her fingers continue to trace the empty space on her chest. She doesn't even know she's doing it, until Kouya asks her if she's all right, a too knowing look in her eye. Yamato gives her best and brightest smile. “Of course!” Naturally, Kouya isn't fooled. “Later, okay?” Yamato says. Right now she just wants to eat dinner with Kouya, and have everything be simple and good. (As if anything with them is simple. But good, yes. It's good. So why does Yamato feel like this?)

After dinner is eaten and the dishes are done, Kouya looks at Yamato. Her eyes are kind and concerned. “Are you all right?”

Yamato is tempted to deny everything. She's afraid that Kouya won't understand. Worse, she's afraid Kouya will think Yamato misses being Zero, and that's not it. And the very worst fear of all is that Kouya will love Yamato less once she sees how weak and confused Yamato really is.

But Kouya understands everything about Yamato. And the rest Yamato will just have to take on love and trust. “I still miss the name,” she explains. “It was your name on me, and any time I wanted, I could look at it, and I'd know I was yours all over again.”

“You're still mine,” Kouya says softly. “I'm yours.”

“I know.” And Yamato does know. If she knows nothing else, she knows that. “But I miss it. I don't miss anything else, but I miss that.”

There's nothing to say, so Kouya kisses Yamato, and it's just the right thing to do. They make love desperately, and that night Yamato doesn't need any extra reminders that she and Kouya belong to each other.

But the problem sticks in her mind, and a few days later she comes up with a solution. She goes to the closet and finds a razor. (She remembers the razor they almost used to kill themselves, in those horrible moments when they saw no way forward. Yamato pushes the thought away. They didn't die. They're more alive than ever. That's what matters.)

Kouya is reading and looks up when Yamato approaches her. Yamato screws up her courage and shows her the razor. “I want your name on me.” 

The pause seems to last forever. Yamato hasn't been this scared since they left Nagisa. Will Kouya be disgusted? Will she think Yamato's disturbed?

Kouya looks at Yamato intently. “I need to figure out how to do it right,” she says with simple finality. Yamato has never loved her more.

Kouya doesn't say anything about it the next day, or the day after that, and Yamato follows her lead. But on the third day, after they've finished eating, Kouya meets Yamato's eyes and says, “Do you still want my name on you?” Yamato just nods. 

Kouya leads to Yamato to the bathroom, which is frustratingly small for their purposes, but Yamato thinks they can make work. Kouya lays out a razor, several towels, bandages, and a bottle of iodine. “Do you want it on your chest?”

Yamato had thought long and hard about that. Did she want to put Kouya's name where her old Zero mark had been? “No, I thought I'd put it on my thigh.” She grins lasciviously. “So, you can see it when you're down there.” Kouya actually blushes, which is intensely gratifying. More seriously, she adds, “I'm not replacing the old name. We're not Zero anymore. We're Kouya and Yamato.”

Kouya nods. “A fresh start.” Yamato beams. Kouya always understands. 

Yamato slips out of her skirt, props herself on the toilet, and spreads her legs. She feels a hot spike of arousal that only heightens as Kouya leans down with the razor.

“You'd better stay still,” Kouya warns. Yamato considers saying something like 'make me,” but it occurs to her that staying still is actually the right call.

The pain is sharp, unpleasant shock. Months of stubbed toes and bruised shins, and Yamato still isn't used to to the relentless reality of pain. 

Kouya looks up at her, the question in her eyes. Yamato shakes her head. “It's okay.” This pain is all right. 

Kouya works in earnest silence. Her hands are very steady. Yamato cannot remember the last time she felt so safe, and if that's the wrong feeling to have, then she doesn't care.

Finally, Kouya leans back, nods, and presses a towel wet with iodine against Yamato's leg, making Yamato hiss from the sting. Kouya moved to bandage the wound, but Yamato stopped her. “Wait, I want to see.” 

“It doesn't look like much all bloody and new,” Kouya tells her apologetically. “You can make the scarring deeper over the next few days.”

Yamato smiled. “I think it's wonderful.” She ran her fingers along the outside of the cuts. “Sakagami Kouya,” she said reverently. Kouya's name on her forever. Not Zero, a name given to them by someone else. She asked for this. Kouya chose to give it to her. She waits for Kouya to bandage the wound before she stands up and embraces her. “I didn't love you any less before,” she whispers. 

“I know,” Kouya answers softly. “This isn’t Zero. This is just us.” She pauses. “I think I'd like us to be a matching set. Will you do it? Will you give me your name?”

Yamato kisses her, soft and long. “Absolutely.”

Names on skin can be beautiful, but names on hearts are even more important. But Yamato and Kouya already know that.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't try this at home, kids.


End file.
